


The Ballad of Itachi Uchiha

by Grandma_Wolf



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Halloween, High School politics, Horror, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Prom, based on one of the songs from 35MM A Musical Exhibition, perfectionist!Itachi, plenty of blood here folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 09:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grandma_Wolf/pseuds/Grandma_Wolf
Summary: The time had finally come: Senior Prom! Itachi Uchiha has been working tirelessly to make sure his grades were perfect, his track and field times were outstanding, and that his popularity on social media was off the charts. Now the only thing he had to do to make everything truly FLAWLESS was secure his spot as Prom King! After all...He DESERVED this.





	The Ballad of Itachi Uchiha

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Dears!
> 
> Grandma here with a little fic to celebrate the Halloween season. So, yes, we're going into Horror-territory, loves. 
> 
> This was written over the course of two days after I had been introduced to the musical 35MM: A Musical Exhibition and the breakout BANGER of a song 'The Ballad of Sara Berry'. 
> 
> I hope I did the song justice with this fic. Please enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think!

* * *

 

 

“ _And now!” A voice called out, their voice sharing the same feverish excitement that had an entire auditorium's worth of teens and adults in a frenzy, “Please, let's hear it for our Prom King!!”_

_He watched the crowds all around the stage: clapping, whooping, cheering._

_Sure, a minute portion of it was for his boyfriend, who had been voted Prom Consort (in replacement of 'queen'). But the real cause of the applause... Oh, it was all for him._

_How Itachi Uchiha had strived, worked, and **bled** for this day!_

[“ _Whoa-oh~Oh!_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eN3IW0SJAMo)

[ _Down on your knees_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eN3IW0SJAMo)

[ _Before the King~!”_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eN3IW0SJAMo)

_The gracious runner-up (Deidara, was it?) gracefully handed him a bouquet of flowers and the scepter to accompany the gold-plated, embroidered velvet crown. Itachi took a deep breath and waved out to everyone still cheering for him._

“ _Whoa-oh~Oh!_

_Down on your knees_

_Before the King~!”_

 

I deserve this.

* * *

 

Every day of this, his senior year, started off the same for one Itachi Uchiha. He would get up early in the morning, do thirty minutes on the treadmill, shower and get dressed, bit of eyeliner to make his eyes pop, and then he would check Facebook for the latest gratification and gossip from his fellow students at Scarlet Park High.

Itachi scrolled down on his phone.

'FangOverFang - #ItachiUchiha is definitely the way to vote for #PromKing'

He scrolled down again.

'#ScarletParkHigh – We are proud to announce #ItachiUchiha as our stunning Valedictorian!'

Itachi chuckled, sipping at a cup of orange juice while he waited for his brother.

One more scroll. Just... just for the heck of it, even though the amount of praise he had already read was making him warm and a little dizzy.

'ScarletParkHigh – Go Maned-Wolves! Let's give it up for the team's vote for Prom King and Prom Consort: #ItachiUchiha and #KisameHoshigaki!!!!'

“Can you ease up on the social media a little at the table?”

Itachi looked up to see his little brother maneuvering around the table so he could grab a muffin. It was Wednesday so the maid had made fresh muffins before she went to work on the rest of the large estate the Uchihas called home.

“I just like to stay informed, Sasuke.” Itachi finished off his juice. “Now, you need to eat that muffin or pack it up in a lunchbox. We're going to be late.”

“Yeah, yeah...” Sasuke huffed before dumping two muffins into a paper bag and shoving them into his backpack.

The two brothers promptly got to walking towards the garage, though Sasuke reminded Itachi that they had to make a quick stop before they left.

Itachi gently eased open the door to the parlor. The lights were dimmed down and the smell of heavy liquor wafted up from the dozens of empty bottles on the floor.

Both brothers sighed at the sight of their mother: completely conked out and drooling on the sofa.

“See you later, mom.” Sasuke muttered, Mikoto Uchiha slurring out something as a pill bottle rolled away from her fingers.

* * *

 

The one thing about their father always being away at work and their mother... being their mother, was that Itachi had been allowed to take a driving test as soon as he turned 16: a black Mustang convertible being his present upon passing with flying colors.

On the drive to school that day, Itachi had time to thing with his brother being more than focused on his text conversations.

Which boyfriend was it today, he wondered? The hyper blonde or the smart-ass with the horrendous bleach-job?

It didn't matter. As long as Sasuke was being safe and having fun. Aside from that, Itachi had other matters to focus on.

The end of senior year was just around the corner. He had already gotten letters of invitation from Harvard, Yale, and even Cambridge as well as a few others.

He was top of his class, with an ass unsurpassed. Of course, that ass and the rest of his impressive body (not overly muscular but toned and curved in all the right places) came from years of track and field.

Not to mention his overall social claim to fame.

He was popular. He would never lie and say that it came easy. Heavens, no, he had almost had to work as hard on his social points as he had his GPA and field times.

But he was here. On the eve of the best time of his life.

He deserved this.

As soon as the car was parked, Sasuke hopped out to go find his friends and boyfriend of the day. Itachi shook his head and made his way to the school building. He waved here, gave a subtle wink there, all the while his phone kept chiming with notifications of people posting about him, tagging him in things.

It was his bliss: that warm dizziness bringing a soft flush onto his porcelain face.

“ _There_ he is!” A loud, deep voice boomed out. Itachi quickly felt himself wrapped in thick arms and pulled against a chest as hard as granite.

“Kisame.” Itachi sighed, nuzzling into the scent of ocean salt and sandalwood.

“Hey, now!” Someone from the school paper app slid by, “Let's get a picture of our Prom King and Prom Consort, huh?”

Itachi chuckled, the other student snapping three quick pics before rushing off.

“Can't wait to see you in that crown and sash, babe.” Kisame pecked Itachi on the cheek before letting him go.

Itachi sighed, “Well, we still have a few weeks until prom. Can't count the chickens before they hatch.”

“Yeah, yeah...” Kisame said, brushing back unruly, electric-blue-dyed hair. “You've got it in the bag, though. Everyone on the football and track teams are voting for you. Hidan's got all of the spiritual clubs on our side, Kakuzu's bringing in the votes from the finance and chess clubs.”

Itachi watched Kisame lift up both of his hands to press a kiss to the both of them. “It's in the bag.”

Itachi had to smile.

Kisame was right. Wasn't he? Yes, he was.

The crown was as good as got.

They deserved this.

* * *

 

Classes went on like normal, really: all of them a bit of a calculated run-by-motions until lunch rolled around.

While Itachi usually made it a priority to attend lunch with his clique and his brother, today he posted something about wanting some time with his boyfriend on his timeline.

In the backseat of Itachi's convertible, Kisame hissed and tilted his head back as Itachi parted his lips and swallowed his dick down his throat: spittle and precum bubbling out of the side of his mouth as he bobbed back and forth on the hard prick.

“Th-this isn't what I had in mind...” Kisame panted, slowly rocking his hips as much as he was able, “When you said you were hungry, babe.”

Itachi's response comes in the form of small moans and wet sounds from his mouth. He readjusts himself in his pants and keeps on: cheeks hollow with how hungrily he was sucking.

Itachi knows that the actual blowjob was secondary to the sight of someone like him between one's legs.

If he wasn't striving so hard for Prom King right now, he would be gracious enough to let Kisame take a picture. As it was...

The thought of something so scandalous existing, as well as the signature slide of cock upon his tongue, has him doubling his efforts. He knows that he's close from how wet his fingers get when he slips a hand into his own pants to stroke himself off, but the bittersweet slick seeping out out Kisame's cock was a herald on its own --

“Mmph!” Itachi shut his eyes, focused on drinking down Kisame's cum when he finally came down his throat. He kept his mouth down, gently sucking down the weakening pulses as he shuddered through his own orgasm staining the inside of his briefs.

Finally, he pulled off: licking his lips.

“You're the best babe...” Kisame panted out, picking up his phone to see how much time was left in lunch. Itachi moved gingerly, trying to find the napkins he kept in his car for clean-up.

“Holy shit...”

“Hm?” Itachi looked up from cleaning himself up to see Kisame looking at his phone, eyes widening in shock and a little bit of sympathetic awe. Itachi brought out his own phone to see what the big deal was. Sure enough, the spotlight of Scarlet Park's student feed was:

'Art Never Dies: Deidara Azumoji barely escapes car-wreck after losing his arm saving other passenger!!'

And, beneath that headline, someone had added a picture of the artsy blonde in question. The ends of his blonde bangs and pony-tail had been singed and one of his sleeves fell limp from the lack of an arm, but he was still smiling. Even his face had been burned a little, though he was hiding it with his hair.

'Not even a car crash is gonna keep me from Prom!' He had apparently been quoted as saying.

“Can you imagine that?”

Itachi shook himself away from the phone to listen to Kisame. “Even after all that, he's still smiling and looking forward to prom. That's the type of brightness in people you don't see often.”

Itachi looked back down at his phone. People were slowly beginning to post... things.

'Deidara's so brave~!'

'Get well soon, hun!'

'We <3 you, Dei~!'

'Let's make this year's prom extra special! Just for Deidara!'

Itachi turned his phone off and shoved it into his backpack.

“Itachi?” Kisame asked, feeling him get tense.

“People get into car accidents every day.” Itachi whispered before realizing what he had said. “I'm... glad that Deidara is okay. I just figure that it would be best to not flood him in extra attention just because he lost an arm. He may think we're patronizing him.”

That's it. Cover yourself with big words.

Kisame hummed. “Mm, yeah. Guess you have a point.”

* * *

 

Day after the next, Deidara had been cleared to come back to school. Of course, the moment the blonde stepped in through the front doors of Scarlet Park, he was swarmed with students asking if he was okay, asking if he needed help carrying his books or art supplies, asking if they could get a picture.

Itachi couldn't be bothered with the senseless hype.

He walked over to the bulletin-board that held the official nominees for Prom Court. Just for that needed hit of warmth and confidence. There we go, let's see...

Princes and Princesses, who cared?

Dukes and Duchesses, gag him _please!_

Ah, there it was!

Nominees for Prom King. Of course, Itachi's name would be the only one in that list. He just decided to read the list to show some humility.

“'Itachi Uchiha...'”

The floor fell out beneath him.

“D...” He gulped, “'Deidara... Azumoji'?”

One of the juniors on the prom committee, Tsukuyomi or something, walked up and nodded, “He's the epitome of bright-eyed courage!”

“Wow!”

Itachi whipped his head around to see the very golden-child that had taken the school by storm. Itachi's left eyelid twitched yet he shook his head and quickly put on a smile. “Deidara! It's... _so_ good to see you back in school. How have you been?”

Deidara laughed and shrugged, shirt sleeve loose where an arm was missing, “Well, at first I wanted to say 'I've been better' but everyone's been absolutely _amazing_ since I got back. And now,” He walked up to the bulletin-board, “Look at _this_! Me? A nominee for Prom King? This is _explosively_ awesome!”

“Mm-hm...” Itachi forced a nod and stopped his smile from wavering, “It's _great_..!”

* * *

 

It _was not_ great. Even when Itachi was hanging out with his clique after-school (Pein and Konan from the Track team, Kakuzu the school Salutatorian, Hidan the representative of all of Scarlet Park's faith-based clubs, Sasori his friend from Book Club, and Tobi from Cheer) it seemed that Deidara was the focus of conversations.

“Do you think that Deidara would even have a chance at winning Prom King?” Pein asked, the rest of the group going quiet when Itachi picked his head up.

“I... mean...” Pein cleared his throat and kicked Hidan underneath the table.

“Motherfucker!” Hidan hissed before coughing, “I mean, I doubt enough people will drop their votes for Itachi for Blondie! Heh...”

Itachi looked around his clique and typed something into the memo portion of his phone.

No... They were right... Itachi had been working too hard for that crown just for Deidara to sweep it from underneath with his amputee pity-party.

 

He _deserved_ this.

* * *

 

Itachi stepped out of the garage after pulling his car in after a long few hours of plastering posters around the school. He unrolled one of the posters left over: showing his smiling face and the words 'Vote Flawlessly! Itachi Uchiha for Prom King!' He walked straight to the kitchen, hoping to get a snack, but instead seeing... It.

Itachi's stomach shriveled up at the sight of a lone piece of folded paper resting upon the counter. He picked up the note and opened it. Just as he expected and feared, it was from his father.

'Parlor. 8:15 PM' is all it read.

Itachi looked to the clock on the stove. It was currently 8:00 sharp. So Itachi forwent the snack and walked back to the parlor.

He took a deep breath. He gave a simple knock.

“Come in.” Hid father's voice called out.

Itachi exhaled and opened the door, closing it behind him.

The thing of it was that Fugaku almost never saw his family these days. Outside of an award or a holiday dinner, Fugaku Uchiha kept long hours at his corporate building downtown or he stayed in the parlor with his wife.

Itachi stepped further into the room. He spared a glance at his mother on the sofa but mostly focused on stepping on the designated area his father always had either him or Sasuke kneel when talking to him. Itachi did just that when he got to the worn spot on the floor.

Fugaku held his chin upon his interlocked fingers. He looked out of the large parlor windows.

Eventually he stood and walked in front of his desk.

“When I...” Fugaku lifted his hand and inspected his cuticles, “Agreed to let you pursue a relationship with one of _those people_ , I was under the impression that you would show your gratitude for my leniency.”

Mikoto rolled over on the sofa, Fugaku rolled his eyes.

“So,” Fugaku continued, circling around Itachi, “Imagine my surprise when I overhear my intern talking about how your vying for Prom King is being _smothered_ by some gimp fairy!!”

Itachi bowed his head, his bangs hiding the tenseness around his eyes as he held a breath and awaited the worst.

But. It didn't come.

Itachi looked up.

“You need to understand something, Itachi,” Said Fugaku, “It isn't just this _Prom_ , but life does reflect it. So, I would _hope_ that you won't disappoint your mother and I. Is that understood?”

Itachi swallowed the air in his throat. “Y...” He swallowed again, “Yes father.”

“Good.” Fugaku sat down at the desk in the parlor, “You're excused.” He pressed the button on the desk that controlled the house intercom system. “Marisol! Come give Mikoto her evening bath.” He took a look at his near-comatose wife before adding, “Also, bring more bourbon.”

* * *

 

Itachi closed the parlor door and made a beeline up the stairs to his room. His phone chimed a few times, but... it wasn't to the feverish intensity he was used to. His phone was just... low on data. Or signal.

That had to be it.

So, as soon as he walked into his room, he turned on his laptop. It was all just a technical snafu. People were just talking about Deidara and his missing arm because he was the current thing. Itachi was _still_ going to be Prom King.

He had worked too hard for this not to happen.

No, no... Facebook just needed to load and he would see that the Scarlet Park student body was still excited to see Kisame and him on stage at prom.

'OMG, Deidara is such a hero!'

Wait.

'Love you forever, Dei!'

No.

'Deidara for Prom King!'

Stop.

'Is it me?? Or maybe our Prom King should be a bt more GOLDEN??? #PromKing #DeidaraAzumoji'

“No.

_No._

_NO!_ ”

Itachi feverishly scrolled down his Facebook timeline, as well as the one for Scarlet Park High. This wasn't happening... All Deidara had done was lose a _fucking arm_ , why the hell was everyone insisting on _him_ being Prom King all of a sudden?!

* * *

 

“Vote Flawlessly!” Itachi handed a few students pins with his face on them. He was standing in front of the school near one of the larger posters he and his clique had set up.

He wasn't desperate, or anything. No, he just wanted to remind people of the _correct_ choice for Prom King; to get them to vote _logically_ rather than _emotionally_.

He looked down at his phone. Ten minutes until first bell. He could stay 8 or so more minutes. He handed a few more pins out before making a quick call. “Sasuke? How are those campaign cookies coming along?”

“Wait, what?” Sasuke asked, sounding more than a little _'out of breath'_. “Oh, wait... Yeah, didn't get around to it. I had to help Suigetsu out with a... Um... Proje--”

“Damn it, Sasuke!!” Itachi snapped into the phone, “I only asked you to do this _one_ thing for me and you decide to go fuck your boyfriend instead?!”

“What the _hell_ , Itachi?” Sasuke yelled back, “I didn't even _have_ to agree to help you! Maybe I can do it la--”

Itachi hung up the phone and took several deep breaths to steady himself. He nodded and then put that flawless smile back on. “Vote Flawlessly!” He handed out a few more pins as the bell rang. As people flooded into the school, he managed to hand out the rest and decided to check in on social media.

'Soooo voting #ItachiUchiha for #PromKing'

'#ItachiUchiha has the #ScarletParkHigh Chess Club support 100%'

'They are going to look SOOOO cute together on stage~~!! #ItachiUchiha #KisameHoshigaki'

Itachi allowed himself a soft contented sigh from the positive flow of tags and mentions. He switched over to the school's timeline and _immediately faltered against the closest row of lockers_.

'Have a Golden-Time by voting #DeidaraAzumoji for Prom King!'

No!

'I think the other side is a bit too pushy... #DeidaraAzumoji #PromKing'

No, stop!

'Deidara is sooo brave for coming back to school after such an event. Why _wouldn't_ anyone want him for #PromKing?!'

“STOP IT!”

Itachi forced his phone into his pocket and paced along the hall. No... Damn it, _no_! This is why he needed Sasuke to order those _damn_ cookies!! If his brother wasn't going to help him then he needed to figure out how to gain back his straying voter-base.

Maybe...

Could he...

He reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out the Black Centurion card that his father had given him to use for _Emergencies Only_.

After last night's conversation, this _was_ an emergency.

* * *

 

“...Itachi?” The aging English teacher of the class Itachi was supposed to be in right then called. She then looked up, squinting behind her glasses, “Itachi Uchiha?”

His desk was empty.

“Oh dear...” She wrote something down on her attendance sheet, “Three years of school and no absences until Senior? A shame...”

* * *

 

Once lunch period rolled around, Kakuzu and the rest of Itachi's clique had teamed up to find out what had happened to their friend...

Just to see him standing next to two high-end food trucks parked in the school courtyard: a giant version of the 'Vote Flawlessly' posters in between the two as excited students took advantage of the free, delicious food.

“Itachi!” Kakuzu caught up to the Valedictorian.

“Remember to Vote Flawlessly!” Itachi called out as a group of teens picked up their orders. He turned and saw Kakuzu and the others. “Hey! Oh, this is perfect! You guys can grab something to eat and start handing out more pins!”

Kakuzu was flabbergasted, “Handing out pi – Itachi! You missed _four_ of today's classes! What the hell have you been doing?!” He looked at the trucks and the posters and the boxes of pins. “Don't answer that. What about your assignments?! And I'm sure you had a test in Econ!”

Itachi rolled his eyes, “I'll just go to the teachers and ask about homework and a make-up test, alright? Come on, help me with these boxes!”

Kakuzu scoffed. The others could help, he was _done_. As he stormed off, he brought out his phone and typed something on the Scarlet Park timeline.

 

'#MoneyTalks – Guess that grades aren't important when you're trying to stay FLAWLESS. #DeidaraAzumoji #PromKing'

* * *

 

Itachi was absolutely _through_ with Kakuzu as a friend. How _dare_ he change his vote to Deidara?! Whatever, it didn't matter; Itachi needed to focus twice-fold on the school religious clubs and the sports clubs as well as the rest of his voter-base.

The next day he actually _was_ on his way to visit Hidan's Jashinism club when he heard laughing from inside of the club's designated meet-up room.

He snuck up to the door and peeked inside, choking on his own spit instantly.

Inside, Hidan was i _ntroducing Deidara_ of all people to his club members. That... fucking... _INGRATE_!! What, was he following his asshole boyfriend's footsteps and changing camp?! Itachi gritted his teeth and stormed away from the classroom. Fuck it, he would visit the sports teams today then!

 

'J4sh1nSl4ys – Look deep down, motherfuckers! #DeidaraAzumoki is THE choice for #PromKing!!!'

* * *

 

At least the sports teams had his back. Though Itachi _was_ more focused on the actual teams rather than his windows into them.

Meaning, really, that he hadn't shown up to Track practice in the two weeks of Prom Campaigning. Not to mention that every time Kisame tried to call him, he would let it go to voicemail.

He had more important things to think about. They would have plenty of time to spend together once they were crowned Prom King and Prom Consort.

That made sense...

_Right_?

* * *

 

“Itachi, what the _hell_?!” Kisame growled into the phone when he got the other teen's voicemail for the umpteenth time. “I've been trying to talk to you for the past week and – Actually? You know what? _Fuck this_!” He had been patient, beyond patient. But Itachi was honestly treating this whole Prom King thing like it was more important than everyone else that cared for him.

Even Sasuke had called Kisame venting about how much of an asshole Itachi had been to him just because he hadn't gotten some fucking cookie order or some shit?

“You want to be Prom King _so_ bad?! I hope you enjoy it by yourself! I'm _done_!!”

He hung up and hurled his football helmet to the ground, brushing his hair back with his hands as he fumed in silence. He couldn't believe this... He had been there to support Itachi through thick and thin and he even stayed courteous enough to not tell his racist _fuck_ of a dad to fuck off.

Oh, and that's not even how many times Itachi would try to placate him after one of Fugaku's sneer side-remarks with 'just ignore him', 'he'll come around', 'you're dating me, he just has to warm up to you.'

“Here we go.” An arm covered in bangle bracelets and a hand with baby-blue painted nails picked up the helmet.

Kisame looked up from his venting to see Deidara picking up his discarded helmet. “Wow, this is heavier than I thought it was.” Deidara laughed, “Or maybe it just feels that way because, well...” He shrugged towards his empty shirt sleeve.

“Th-thanks.” Kisame took the helmet and walked over to the bleachers. Deidara followed him, bright-eyed and sympathetic.

“You look like something's eating at you inside.” Deidara sat next to Kisame once the larger teen took a seat, “You wanna talk about it?”

Kisame leaned back, sighing, “Finding out that someone used you and doesn't really give two shits about you is a lot to take in.”

Deidara pursed his lips and hummed. “Well, if I learned anything from almost dying and losing an arm,” He hopped up to stand on the bench, “It's that people's true selves come out when the pressure is put on them. Some of us handle it like adults: the stress of that final needed touchdown, a fire burning your hair and face while you pull a kid out of a burning car... Some of us push away the people who care about us in pursuit of some gaudy dollar-store tiara.”

Kisame let the words digest as he watched Deidara tap his feet on the steel bench. “I think I'm gonna miss being able to do cartwheels...” Deidara pouted before he looked down at Kisame. He couldn't help it, he giggled a bit: cheeks flushing a bit.

Kisame stood up on the bench and tried to look at the world from Deidara's point of view.

Wow... The turf of the football field actually looked greener. He turned towards Deidara, and Deidara looked back at him.

He brushed Deidara's bangs aside, able to see the burns the blonde had taken to hiding. But, even those, from the point of view he now had, were intricate webbings of red and white surrounding the sapphire of his eye.

Kisame cleared his throat, looking away to hide the blush on his own cheeks. Deidara stayed quiet, seemingly _just_ realizing how close he was to the hottest quarterback on Scarlet Park's team.

“Thanks for that, Deidara.” Kisame started to descend down the bleachers, Deidara waving at him,

“No problem. Anytime!”

Kisame had made it to the bottom of the bleachers before he turned around and waved his helmet to get Deidara's attention. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Not a one!” Deidara whooped down.

Kisame grinned, “Let me take you out!”

Deidara's eyes went wide. He blushed absolutely crimson and looked around, “I... I thought you were dating --”

“Not anymore!!” Kisame joyously whooped back. In fact, he brought out his phone and changed his relationship status to 'It's Complicated'.

* * *

 

Itachi didn't know what was happening. It was like all of his friends were avoiding him. Damn it, he needed help replacing some of the 'Vote Flawlessly' posters that were getting crumpled by now.

He stopped by one of the main bulletin-boards.

His box of pins and posters dropped to the ground.

How...

What...

His posters, his banners... Who the _hell_ covered them up with Deidara's _bullshit_?!!?

He stormed over to the wall and ripped the new posters and banners down so he could pin his new poster up.

“Wow...”

“What is he _doing_?”

Itachi turned around. But no one was there; the hall was empty. Itachi continued his work and looked upon the finished product with a small amount of pride.

He decided to check on social media. He knew he had to be doing great, especially after all of his work, he just wanted that small hit of reassurance.

“Oh.” He blinked, “The Prom Committee finally put up a poll.” He could get an actual estimate of his hard work. Itachi opened it and _nearly screamed right there in the hall_.

 

'Itachi Uchiha: 17%

**Deidara Azumoji: 83%** '

* * *

 

“What the hell is this?!” Itachi forced his phone into Sasuke's face, “How can I come back from _this_?! This is _exactly_ why I needed your help near the beginning of the campaign, Sasuke!!”

“Itachi, oh my _God_! Can you give it a rest?!” Sasuke shoved him away, “Maybe you _don't_ need to be Prom King if you're just going to bitch like this--”

“Shut _up!_ ” Itachi roared, slapping Sasuke to the floor.

“Dude, what the _fuck_ is your problem?!” Naruto, the spastic blonde, rushed to help his boyfriend to his feet. Sasuke, on the other hand, hissed up at his brother,

“You know _what_? I _was_ going to vote for you out of pity but _fuck you_! I'm voting for Deidara!”

Itachi glared down at his brother before storming off to find his clique. They needed to regroup and find out how they could salvage the public opinion before prom. It was _literally_ the day after tomorrow!!

* * *

 

He found them hanging out in the courtyard. “Thank goodness I caught up with you guys.” Itachi sighed, shoulders sagging in relief.

“Oh. _Wow_. It's you.” Konan scoffed, Hidan adding,

“Wonders never fucking cease.”

However, other than that, no one in the group said anything to Itachi.

“Guys...” Itachi held out a shaky hand, eyebrow twitching, “Come on, we... we need to go get my voter-base back. I need... your help...”

“To be honest, Itachi,” Tobi turned up his nose, “I'm not sure if we can afford to be seen with someone like... _You_.”

Sasori nodded, not opening his eyes, “So, if you could fuck off. Yeah, that'd be _great_...”

“ _Guys_...” Itachi shook his head, “Guys, please! It's _me_ : Itachi! Boyfriend of Scarlet Park's head quarterback and--”

Itachi cut himself off. He hadn't spoken to Kisame in _weeks_. They needed to make sure that their tuxes matched! The lack of communication... Maybe _that_ was why his votes had plummeted! Kisame was... obviously slacking off!

Yes!

Yes, that had to be the reason. After all...

 

Itachi _deserved this_!!

* * *

 

Itachi pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex that Kisame and his family lived in. It was pretty upscale, all things considered. Though Itachi wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. He walked up to the floor that Kisame's parents rented out and lifted up the welcome mat to find the emergency key that Kisame had let Itachi know about during sophomore year.

Itachi let himself into the apartment and looked around.

On the dining table he noted how Kisame had carelessly tossed his backpack, wallet, and keys. There was also... a sketchbook?

“When did you take up art?” Itachi chuckled, picking up the sketchbook and flipping through the pages.

A bird.

Another bird. Okay.

Flames.

Fireworks.

“This is an eclectic collection,” Itachi lifted a single brow as he continued. The next few sketches... Were of Kisame.

How did... Kisame get such a good view of himself? Because, indeed, there was Kisame stepping out of a pool, Kisame sleeping on a couch, Kisame in a tuxedo, Kisame struggling to bake a cake...

“Nngh..!”

“Hold on... I'm almost all in...”

Itachi tossed the sketchbook aside. What was _that_?

The latter voice Itachi could recognize through a storm. But who the _hell_ was in there with him?!

As Itachi got closer to Kisame's bedroom door, the voices continued: heated, breathy, aborted.

“Oh fuck! Oh _fuck_!”

“Yeah, that's it... You're fucking amazing... Take it.”

Itachi stood in front of Kisame's bedroom door. He could hear his bed-frame knocking against the wall. And the moaning from whoever the hell was in there with Kisame was trying his last nerve!

Itachi forced the door open, his face a dark storm on the horizon.

“What the _FUCK_?!” Kisame yelped, quickly grabbing one of his sheets to cover himself and...

At the sight of mussed blonde hair, Itachi immediately shouted, “ _YOU!_ ”

Deidara, cheeks still flushed and forehead still damp, pointed a finger from his remaining arm to his face. “Me?”

Itachi couldn't believe this. He was so mad he could spit, so incensed he was seeing red, so pissed he was about to have kittens. “Not _only_ are you ruining my _life_!” Itachi screamed, “But you come in and _steal_ my _BOYFRIEND_?!”

“Wait, hold on!” Deidara sputtered out and tried to sit up but it was a bit of an ordeal with only one arm and a literal pain in his ass. “I didn't steal _jack_ or _shit_! Would you _chill_ for just a second--”

“And _you_!” Itachi turned his attention to Kisame, “Here I am: struggling against all things to become Prom King and _you're_ here fucking around with the competition?! You cheating _bastard_!”

“Cheating?!” Kisame shook his head, “Itachi! _You_! Ditched! _Me_! You practically dumped me in favor of chasing your _oh-so-important_ crown, _I_ just made it official!”

Itachi faltered back, propping himself up against the doorjamb. He brought out his phone and went to Kisame's Facebook. He tapped on 'Relationship Status' and, sure enough, it read: 'Currently Dating: Deidara Azumoji'.

Itachi whipped his head back up towards the two nude forms in the room. “You can't _do_ this to me!!” Itachi screamed, refusing to let tears form or fall in his rage, “We have to go to prom together! They have to announce us as Prom King and Prom Consort _together_!!”

“Itachi...” Kisame shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Itachi, I texted you about that _days_ ago.”

Itachi gave a slow shake of his head. He brought his phone back up and tapped his messenger app. So many unread messages. But it wasn't his fault, he had been _busy_! He tapped on Kisame's name and he scrolled through dozens of 'Hello', 'what the hell', 'will you talk to me', 'Getting worried here', 'fine then, fuck you too', until he got to the end.

Itachi's eyes went as wide as saucers, pupils shrinking to pinpricks as he read the words: each letter like a nail in a coffin.

'I'm taking Deidara to Prom.'

 

“ _ **NNNOOOOOOO!!!!”**_

* * *

 

Itachi's head was forced to the left, his cheek stinging and burning from where his father had just slapped him.

“Not _only_!” Fugaku seethed out, Mikoto drooling on the sofa after her latest round of pills and booze, “Did you allow yourself to be rejected by that _stupid ape_! But you're _losing_ in your polls!!”

Itachi couldn't even breathe before another slap sent him to the floor.

***

Sasuke heard the commotion in the parlor from where he was eating dinner and doing homework in the kitchen. “Serves him right.” He scoffed and went back to his tomato sandwich.

***

Itachi didn't even want to say anything because his father was right. It was like his life was falling down all around him; all his plans, his preparations, were all shattering faster than he could put them back together.

Fugaku turned up his nose at the sight of his eldest son crumpled on the floor. “I would have hoped that I had raised you with this knowledge but, since it _obviously_ hasn't stuck in your mind yet...” He turned towards Itachi, “Life, just like Prom, does _not_ have room for _second place_.”

He jabbed an arm towards the parlor door, “Now, get out!”

* * *

 

Itachi screamed as he slammed his fists against his bedroom vanity. He swept everything off of it in an agonized scream before he picked up his laptop and slammed it to the floor over. And over. Until plastic and chips were scattered all over the floor.

He bayed out in pain upon pulling at his hair: managing to snag out several clumps of the matted mess and his eyeliner was even beginning to run in pitiful lines of watery black. His eyes were stuck in that explosion of shock, bags beginning to form underneath them.

Itachi looked at the mirror.

Who... Who _was_ that? That miserable creature staring back at him. “Th-that's not me...” Itachi shook his head, lifting his hands to sickly pale yet bruised cheeks, “I'm perfect. _Flawless_.”

Vote Flawlessly.

Vote Flawlessly!

VOTE...

FLAWLESSLY.

Itachi howled out before he forced his fist into the mirror's surface. The glass splintered around the impact site like a jagged spider's web. Crimson began seeping into the cracks.

But it didn't matter. That horrific creature, that _failure_ , was gone!

“Heh...” Itachi's voice came out in a slow, breathless laugh. “Heh...”

Yes... It was a good thing that he had defeated that miserable creature and sent it away. Now he could see his _true_ self. Oh, there he was!

Dressed to the nines in his black tux with the red silk handkerchief in the breast-pocket. His hair was brushed, smooth and shiny as it was pulled back into a low ponytail. And, oof... On top of his head, in its rightful place, was that _beautiful_ crown!

“ _Wow!”_

Itachi turned in his room when he heard the voice. Actually, he looked down... When had he put his gloves on? In fact, he was in his tux and his hair was to its finest.

The voice came from Tsukuyomi and the rest of the prom committee. _“You're the best looking guy at prom this year, Itachi!”_

“ _Um,” Samehada, another committee member (and Kisame's younger brother), butted in to say, “I think that should be_ King _Itachi, Tsuki.”_

Itachi chuckled. They were still young; plenty of room for mistakes. Someone else bowed before asking to kiss his hand and, well, who was Itachi to deny the adoring masses access to their King?

Their King.

Their King.

Their King.

Their King.

Their

       King.

              Their

                     King.

                            Their

                                   King.

                                          Their

                                                   King.

Itachi was kneeling down in front of his shattered mirror: running his fingers over the cracks. “They sabotaged me...” He whispered, eyes wide and twitching. “Pein. Konan. Kakuzu. Hidan. Sasori. Tsukuyomi. Samehada. Suigetsu. Naruto. Sasuke. Kisame...”

A flash of blonde came across his vision and Itachi stood to his feet. His lips were pulled tight over gnashing teeth; both coming together to perform some unsteady impersonation of a smile.

“I know!” He clapped his hands together, gnashing his teeth against each other, “I just need... to get them to change their minds! And I can still be Prom King!!”

* * *

 

Itachi forced the doors to the gardening shed open. The 1 AM moon was his only silent witness, Itachi's twitches and giggles the soundtrack as he 'shopped'.

He picked up a shovel and tossed it into the trunk of his car. He added to it several bricks, an axe, a bottle of warfarin rat poison, garbage bags (heavy-duty of course), some insecticide and some lye.

He walked back inside the house and, on his way upstairs to _get ready_ , he swung by the kitchen and _plucked_ the sharpest, biggest knife out of the cutting block.

He tucked it into his belt and continued on upstairs.

Prom was tomorrow.

He had to look his _best_..!

* * *

 

The prom committee was hard at work getting things ready for this year's prom. It was late afternoon and they had just about finished putting the décor in the gymnasium in: a sort of medieval/Mod fusion serving as the theme.

A few athletes and club members had grabbed some volunteer opportunities as well. One of them being Pein who was in charge of making the punch for the main table.

“...They should be in the theater classroom.” He told Konan when she left to go find more tablecloths. With the gym empty save for tables, balloons, props, and a stage, Pein poured in some water, some ice, and added in the cherry-limeade Kool-Aid as well as a bottle of lemon-lime soda to give it some carbonation.

“Now,” Pein turned around to get a serving spoon, “That should just about do – Holy--!”

Itachi had, in the span of a second or so, appeared at the punch table. He grinned, the gesture way to tight, and his left eye was still twitching. “Hi Pein...”

“Itachi, what the _hell_ are you doing here?” He couldn't help but huff, “Didn't think you would be brave enough to show your face today.”

Itachi didn't say anything. He just kept... grinning.

“Uh-huh.” Pein went to pick up the spoon he had dropped. While he was on the ground, he noticed Itachi's legs moving a tick. But it wasn't anything extravagant, so he didn't think much of it.

Pein silently urged Itachi back a bit so he could mix the punch together. It soon came to a quenching consistency and Pein decided that he could use a drink. “Well, Itachi,” He poured himself out a cup, “At least you finally learned how to lose with dignity!” He sipped at his cup, Itachi still staring and grinning. Pein did a double-take at the cup. There was almost a salty hint to it. Maybe he didn't stir in all the Kool-Aid correctly. He gave the punch-bowl a thorough stirring and refilled his cup before drinking.

No. No, the salty taste was still there. And _now_ it was accompanied by something coppery. “What the--” Pein cut himself off with a thick, croupy cough that sent blood spraying to the table and to Itachi's tux.

Pein, eyes wide and blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth, tried to scream, “The hell is going o--” But the loud volume triggered his body to vomit: sending bile and more blood to the floor and all over his clothes. “Itachi!” Pein screamed between coughs, “Go get help! Something's... wrong with the p--” He vomited up blood again, collapsing to the floor. His breathing was labored with his lungs filling with blood and he was weakening from the intense vomiting.

Itachi only grinned.

And left the gym.

* * *

 

Konan hefted up the several folded tablecloths she had found into his arms and made to leave the theater room. The door cracked open and Konan peeked above the pile in her arms. “Itachi?” She frowned, “Well, beggars can't be choosers. Help me get these tablecloths to the gym.”

She heard Itachi step forward and was anticipating an end to the burden on her arms.

She was sent to the ground by a harsh shove. The tablecloths went flying though Itachi grabbed one before it hit the floor.

“What the _fuck_ , Itachi?!” Konan tried getting up, hissing, “If you ruined my dress, I'm going to _kill_ you--”

Itachi fell upon her in an instant. He forced her onto her stomach, though she had started fighting at this point. However, Itachi made quick work of tearing the tablecloth into strips and wrapped one around Konan's neck.

And then he started the pulling.

And pulling.

Konan choked and sputtered out, her face turning red, then blue, then purple as she struggled in vain to pull the cloth away from where it was crushing her windpipe.

All the while, Itachi was grinning away. Even when Konan's eyes went dead and her hands fell to the ground.

* * *

 

Kakuzu was taking advantage of being one of the few people in the school building at the time and was smoking a cigarette while he tried to find the lock-box that they were going to need to keep track of door-sales. He turned around a corner, not noticing the grinning form with the shovel trailing behind him.

He stopped. Kakuzu put his cigarette out and turned to see, “Itachi?”

It was the last thing he saw before Itachi slammed the shovel into his face with enough force and intensity to send pieces of bone into his brain.

He did it a few more times for good measure.

* * *

 

“Oy~!” Hidan called out, walking down the halls, “Kakuzu! Bastard, where'd ya go?!” Leave it to his boyfriend to get himself lost while searching for a shitty lock-box!

Hidan turned round a corner and opened his mouth to call out once more.

His voice was stolen from him when he saw Itachi standing over his boyfriend's bleeding, unmoving body: a shovel in hand and a manic look in his eyes.

Hidan looked to Kakuzu. Then to Itachi. Then Kakuzu. “You...” Hidan charged for Itachi, “You bastard!”

Itachi stood his ground and waited for Hidan to get closer.

Closer.

Closer!

_**Closer!** _

Hidan reached for Itachi's arm, just for Itachi to slip aside and let Hidan fall towards the flight of stairs. “What the shit?!” Hidan tore away one of Itachi's sleeves before plummeting down with a scream that was only ended with a sickening crunch on one of the stairs.

Then another several stairs down.

Then one more.

And, finally, Hidan's broken body landed at the base of the staircase.

* * *

 

Sasori was checking around the electronics of the school to make sure they would have enough power for the lights without causing a district-wide blackout. Things seemed good enough. Now Sasori could go back up and maybe relax with a cup of Pein's punch while waiting for the other's to finish.

He opened the door.

Itachi was there.

Sasori quirked an eyebrow. “Um... Can I help y--”

Itachi forced his knife into Sasori's throat and out the other side. The poor bastard barely knew what happened before he hit the floor: blood spurting out from the gaping wound in his neck.

* * *

 

Itachi stood in front of the arts and crafts room. He had locked it from the outside once he saw Samehada and Tsukuyomi walk inside in search of more streamers and confetti. He had also tossed in a seeping canister of insecticide, so he was just waiting at this point.

3...

2...

There was one thump.

…

And then the other.

* * *

 

At this point, Sasuke and Naruto had begun wondering where everyone had gone. Sasuke, busy making corsages with fake flowers for last-minute shoppers, was insistent that they shouldn't bother. But Naruto insisted otherwise. “Nah, Kakuzu owes me 10 bucks for helping with these corsages. I need to make sure he's good to pay up. I'm searching for him.”

It would be nice to know where Suigetsu had gotten to. And if he was skimping out on work.

Naruto jogged down the left end of the hall once he left the math classroom he and Sasuke were working in.

If he had veered right, he would have managed to see Itachi dragging a bag seeping blood and lye behind him back towards the gym.

* * *

 

Not even 10 minutes later, Itachi was busy tossing pieces of Tobi's dismembered and chopped body here, there, and all over the school. 

* * *

 

 

However, it wouldn't be too long before Naruto decided to double back. “Yo!” He called out, “Is anyone around?”

“Hello Naruto.”

Naruto whipped around to see Itachi... Itachi... His sleeve had been torn off, his pants were full of holes from some sort of splashed... acid?

But it was the unhinged look in his eyes. _That_ made Naruto start moving backwards.

“Where are you going?” Itachi tilted his head, “Everyone's gathering in the gym to announce my election as Prom King. You need to come too.”

Naruto watched Itachi reveal a heavy brick from behind him. “You need to come too.”

The young blonde turned and booked it. His heart pounded in his chest and he screamed, “Sasuke!”

Itachi surged forward and seized Naruto's shoulder. “Itachi, don't--”

_**CRRUNCCHH!!** _

* * *

 

“Naruto?” Sasuke set the corsages in a box when he thought he had heard Naruto's voice in the halls. He started the journey into the halls, not knowing why a chill ran up his spine. “Naruto?” Sasuke called out, still walking.

“Pein? Kakuzu? Sasori?” Sasuke walked through the school, searching and calling. He was walking near doors to the indoor pool.

A splash echoed from inside.

Sasuke forced the doors open and saw... “Itachi?”

Itachi was sitting with his legs, pants, shoes, and all, dipped into the pool. Itachi turned towards his brother's face. His grin had lessened in intensity but it still bore an uneasy waver. “Sasuke. Hi. Are you having fun?”

“Aniki, what the hell are you doing here?”

Itachi hummed and tipped his head back and forth. “I was... I...” He looked towards the pool water and pointed towards it, “Is that Suigetsu's jacket?”

“What?!” Sasuke looked to try and see what Itachi was looking at. “I swear to God...”

Itachi got out of the pool.

“... If that asshole...”

He stepped behind his brother.

“... Ditched me and Naruto to go swim – _whoa!_ ”

Itachi shoved Sasuke into the water and watched as his brother struggled to make it to the surface. “Itachi!” Sasuke sputtered out when he broke the surface. “What the hell?!”

Itachi shrugged. “Whoopsie.”

Sasuke could only scoff as he swam towards the edge of the pool. “Well? Help me out!”

Itachi reached his arms out towards Sasuke.

Sasuke lifted his arms out to meet him. He would get out of here and mourn the state of his tux later.

Itachi... forced his hands onto Sasuke's head and pushed him underneath the water: not budging and fighting against Sasuke's struggles.

'What the hell is he doing?!' Sasuke mentally panicked.

Itachi's grin was back in full-force as he kept Sasuke underwater. Even his brother digging his nails into his skin and punching at his arms didn't deter him. He watched the bubbles boil...

Then soften, Sasuke's hands losing strength.

One pop. Two pop. Three pop.

One pop. Two pop.

One pop.

One pop.

One.

* * *

 

Deidara had been invited by the prom committee to get a preview of the prom set-up before the rest of the student-body arrived. Yet, when he got inside the school, things were...

So _quiet._

“Hello?” He called out, walking around the halls. “Hello--”

Itachi took a sharp left round the corner and swung something sharp into Deidara's stomach. The blonde went flying to the floor. What just happened? His shirt near his stomach was wet and... loose? Somehow?

“So...”

Deidara coughed, straining to look up at the approaching figure.

Itachi strolled forward: hands wet but tight on the handle of the axe there. “You were so desperate,” Itachi chuckled, “So conniving to usurp my rightful place as Prom King... that you went and cut off your arm?”

“Itachi..?” Deidara shook his head, struggling to move back, away from that fearsome axe. “What are you talking about? We need... to go get help...”

Itachi tilted his head before his grin pulled tighter at his face. “Fine then. If you're so desperate to be popular, I'll help you! A good King always helps his subjects!!”

Deidara turned his head for a brief second. Huge mistake.

Itachi swung the axe down, the blade digging into the blonde's knee: bone cracking and blood spraying out.

Deidara screamed and rolled onto his bleeding, open stomach so he could fight and pull himself away from Itachi's assault.

Itachi jumped after him, swinging the axe down again and making the separation of thigh from knee that much more apparent. “Itachi! Stop!” Deidara sobbed out, barking out in pain when Itachi finally cut through and had his calf separated from the rest of his body.

Deidara screamed out when Itachi dragged him back by his remaining leg and started the process anew. The axe's impact on the second leg had Deidara vomiting in pain, eyes rolling up into his skull; his brain trying to get him to pass out and avoid this terrific pain.

“Don't go to sleep on me!” Itachi laughed, swinging down, “ _Rude!_ ”

With the second leg done and blood seeping out onto the floor to make it a slick, sticky mess, Itachi took his time walking over to Deidara's remaining arm.

He lifted the axe once more...

And swung down.

* * *

 

Kisame had just finished with his final fitting and was on his way to the school to see if he could swipe one of the false corsages since everywhere in town seemed to be sold out.

It would be nice to see how prom-prep had gone, too. Only an hour or so until the best night of their lives.

Kisame parked his car and walked into the school.

The school doors clanged shut behind him and Kisame made his way to the gym.

'Ooh, baby

Do you know what it's worth?

Ooh~ Heaven is a place on earth!'

Kisame stopped, listening to the music wafting out from the gym doors.

Huh. So the prom committee had gone along with Itachi's 80s playlist recommendation?

Oh well, maybe it would mellow him the fuck out once he got here.

“Hey guys!” He stepped in, “Having fun without mee --- Oh my GOD!”

All around the room there were bodies, and or body pieces, spread asunder.

Kisame couldn't even talk as he walked passed Pein: his eyes dull and bloodied foam leaving his lips.

“Konan?” He asked, the girl's purple-faced corpse propped up in a chair.

Sasori's body was seeping blood from the gash in his neck from his and Kakuzu's broken, bleeding face had been laid out next to Hidan's broken, bleeding body.

Kisame looked around, this nightmare becoming more visceral and real with every second.

The melting body parts all over the tables... Oh God, that was Suigetsu wasn't it? There was just a bit of bleached hair attached to some of the fleshy pieces.

He nearly tripped over Naruto's body, bone and gray matter seeping out to the floor.

“Samehada!” Kisame shouted, rushing over to his brother's body as well as Tsukuyomi's. _“No... No-ho-oh!!”_

The younger teen's were lifeless. His clothes smelled of bug poison. Something golden grabbed his line of sight. Kisame followed it, shaking his head. No... It couldn't be. Not that...

His blue eyes had been gouged out of his head, his limbs cut off and spread all around the gym, and his intestines were tied and twisted like streamers...

But it was Deidara.

“Babe, no...” Kisame shook his head, turning away and throwing up the contents of his stomach: the sight of blood and flesh finally too much for him.

Sasuke's waterlogged corpse was a few tables away and Kisame had the thought: 'was whoever did this still here?

There was a footstep on the stage, pulling his attention to...

* * *

 

_Itachi ascended the steps to the stage. The crowds applauding below and he had a crown to accept._

“ _Congratulations~!” Tsukuyomi said, offering to place the crown upon Itachi's head._

* * *

 

Hands caked in blood picked up the crown from its pedestal. It was shakily lifted and shakily placed upon his frizzed and matted hair. Itachi shuddered and sighed, running his fingers down the sides of his blood-spattered face and licking his lips.

* * *

 

“ _Whoa-oh~oh!_

_Down on your knees_

_Hail to the King!”_

_Everyone in the room chanted, some of them applauding and some actively sinking to their knees._

_Itachi waved out to the student body and faculty. His beloved subjects. “Thank you, thank you.” He chuckled as Samehada laid the 'Prom King' sash over his pressed tuxedo. A scepter was put into his gloved hands and he went back to his address. “I thank each and every one of you for voting me as your beloved Prom King. There was a lot of hard work and stress put into it but, as you can see, it was all worth it.” He chuckled again, the audience joining him._

_The gracious runner-up (Deidara, was it?) gracefully handed him a bouquet of flowers and the scepter to accompany the gold-plated, embroidered velvet crown. Itachi took a deep breath and waved out to everyone still cheering for him._

_He deserved this._

_He DESERVED this!!_

_Oh, it was all for him._

_How Itachi Uchiha had strived, worked, and **bled** for this day!_

_He watched the crowds clear the center of the dance floor. Now, why were they doing that? Well, there in the center, his loyal Prom Consort holding out a hand for him. “Can I have a dance with my King?” Kisame asked with a slight bow._

_Itachi smiled, eyes filling with tears of joy. He jumps down from the stage and right into Kisame's arms. They spin in their close embrace, feet moving along to the music and the applause of their peers. It was all so_ beautiful _._

_The lights, the pomp, the circumstance..._

_The man in his arms..._

_The crown on his head._

“ _Oh Kisame...” Itachi whispered, dipping his head into the crook of Kisame's shoulder and only moving away when Kisame twirled him into a spin..._

* * *

 

Kisame's screams of agony bounced off the walls of the gym as his blood streaked over the floor and tables. He tried fighting Itachi's manic form off but, every time, Itachi would just hop back on and keep _stabbing_ him. _Cutting_ him.

Kisame kicked Itachi away and dragged his bleeding form to where he had dropped his phone in the scuffle.

“Hello?” The emergency dispatch operator tried speaking out, “Hello, sir? Are you still there?”

“Sc-Scarlet Park High School!!” Kisame shouted, “Send someone! _Anyone_! He's lost it – oh shit!!”

Itachi pulled Kisame back away from the phone and started stabbing at his back and cutting at random.

* * *

 

“ _Whoa-oh~oh!_

_Down on your knees_

_Hail to the King!”_

* * *

 

“Itachi, stop! Oh, _God_ , stop!!”

* * *

 

“ _Whoa-oh~oh!_

_Down on your knees_

_Hail to the King!”_

* * *

 

Itachi dug the knife in deep and pulled down, splitting skin and flesh to spill more blood to the floor and stain the other teen's tux.

He laughed, leaning down and taking some of the frayed flesh in his teeth before pulling back: blood and skin and muscle hanging from his lips and teeth.

The gym doors burst open, several police officers charging in and aiming their weapons. “Freeze! Nobody mo – _oh..._ ”

One of the officers, new to the force, immediately bolted out of the ghastly room and emptied his stomach onto the floor outside.

With his ex-boyfriend dying on the floor, Itachi stood up. His mouth was still caked in blood and strips of flesh, but he extends out his bloodied arms, shredded clothing following his motions, and chimes out, “Welcome to my _Prom_ Kingdom~! Enjoy your stay~!”

* * *

 

_Itachi waved to his subjects as he was pulled into an abrupt crowd-surfing session._

“ _Whoa-oh~oh!_

_Down on your knees_

_Hail to the King!”_

_Yes! Yes, Hail to the motherfucking King! He was the King! Him! He had made it!_

_**HE DESERVED THIS** _ **!**

“ _I'm the King of Scarlet Park High!” He whooped, spinning his scepter, “And life is_ GOOD _!” He looked out over the crowds and saw his parents and he couldn't help but laugh, “Do you see me, father? I did it!”_

* * *

 

“I'm the KING of Scarlet Park!” Itachi cackled and screamed as he was dragged away from the school in cuffs. His eyes were blown wide, blood drying on the lower part of his face. He kicked and jumped, his voice going higher and his laughs becoming more raucous. “ _I'm the KING of Scarlet Park_!! It's me! It's _me_! Everyone's cheering my name, can't you hear it?! _I'm_ the _KING_!”

He was forced into the cop car as the EMTs rushed into the gym with stretchers and body-bags.

* * *

 

_Prom had been such a rousing success that the prom committee had decided to extend it for as long as possible. Itachi didn't mind it one bit. He was surrounded by his peers and subjects and he was at the side of the person he loved._

_Prom could go for as long as it wanted to. Itachi was King. He deserved this. This is where he needed to be. Where he_ wanted _to be._

* * *

 

Several months later, Fugaku Uchiha was looking into the small window of a steel door in a certain building.

Forest Hill Hospital, to be exact. It wasn't your typical operations and childbirth hospital, but it was the best that money could by for Fugaku's needs.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the figure inside of the room, surrounded by padded walls and tied up in a tight straitjacket.

“I'm the King...” Itachi sung to himself, rocking side to side and looking at the walls for a scene that only he could see. His lips twitched as did his eyes. “I'm the King of Scarlet Park... I'm the King... I'm the King of Scarlet Park...”

Fugaku slammed the window shut and turned away with his nose turned up in the air.

He had hoped this... unsteadiness would have stayed with Mikoto. Hence why he had taken to keeping her doped up and drunk off her ass.

But... These sorts of things were always hereditary, he supposed.

“A pity.” He huffed, walking down the hall.

He had to get to work, anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hm... Who do you guys think was the real villain in this story? 
> 
> The broken Valedictorian?  
> The golden-child newcomer?  
> The abusive father?  
> Or the disgruntled boyfriend?
> 
> Again, PLEASE feel free to leave feedback. It really makes writing worth it at the end of the day. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Grandma loves all of you!


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